Djaq
by Kin-outcast1
Summary: Scenes from "Turk Flu" shown through the eyes of Will and Djaq. Rated T just in case.


**A/N This is based on the episode Turk Flu. I suggest you watch the show afterward and look for all the different exchanges. I did however add several exchanges that were not in the show, but could very well have happened behind our backs ;) Hope you enjoy, and reviews are always welcome!**

**Disclaimer: These characters are not mine, but I have dibs on them if they ever happen to be up for grabs!**

An interesting change of pace.

The wagon had at last stopped. They'd been rattling around on the same godsforsaken English road for miles, and it stank like a cesspit inside the wagon. Other females might have found it uncomfortable trapped in such close proximity with many men – Djaq did not. She was used to them. In the Crusades, it was always men … here was not any different. She had gotten used to their presence, although she still found it difficult getting used to their smell.

Now there were more men. English outlaws, standing about in a scruffy group and speaking amongst themselves. And by some great miracle of Allah, they stank even worse than the men inside the cart did. They were also letting the slave trader gorge himself, which Djaq found to be more than a little irritating. Were they just going to let Djaq and her fellows sit imprisoned and languishing all afternoon while this great pig of a man drowned himself in wine?

The youngest outlaw, thin and pale, stood very close to the car, not saying anything. Djaq stared at him, fingers wrapped around the restricting bars, willing him with silent desperation to open the gate. He stared back with morose, puppy-dog eyes in a face that was so typically English it almost made Djaq want to laugh. But he did not open the gate, damn him.

"Keep your distance," the slave trader was saying in a conspiratorial tone. "Don't let 'em breathe near you. Diseased." Oh, how Djaq wanted to kill him. "One of our soldiers dropped dead after getting too close." So many lies. Now they would never be free.

"Dropped dead?" echoed the pale outlaw.

The slave trader went on to tell some outrageous story that he seemed to find hilarious about brains dripping out of said unfortunate soldier's nostrils. The pale one turned back to Djaq, and she dutifully resumed her desperate eye contact. He looked uncomfortable now, and did not venture any nearer to the cart. _But, _Djaq also noticed with an internal twitch of amusement, he did not move any further away. _Englishmen_. Sometimes she could not tell whether she loved them or loathed them.

. . .

Will really did not want to get inside that cart. So he just stood off to the side and blended inconspicuously into the trees while Robin's plans were set down. The strange Saracen boy was still watching him, and consequently making him hate himself. Damn, much as he loved and trusted Robin, he did not understand why he always had to be so elaborate! Was the mine really that important? Couldn't they just set the Arabian men free and go dig up something to eat at the camp? He banished that thought quickly, realizing he'd just sounded exactly like Much.

Speaking of, the man had just briskly handed Alan the questionable and more-than-a-little-intimidating weed, who began sniffing it tentatively. No one was really certain about this plan … except of course, for Robin. "People fear what they don't understand," he was explaining patiently.

"I wasn't scared," Will spoke up, regretted it, and consequently forced himself not to blush at the ensuing laughter. The Saracen boy did not laugh. He just silently continued to make Will hate himself.

. . .

Djaq was free, and Djaq was bathing. Those were two miraculous things she had not expected to experience for a very long time. And yet she kept asking herself why she was not running for her life. Did this "Robin", this outlaw, have such a honey-coated tongue that even Djaq fell for his manipulative promises? She trusted no one, and certainly not any Englishmen, and yet … she was mysteriously attracted to the outlaws. She _wanted _to help them, in a queer and inexplicable way.

She did not get to experience these positive feelings for very long, however. A voice at her back startled her while she was drying off, and when she swung around, she faced the pale outlaw, whose name, she had learned, was Will. "You spy on me!" she cried in an outrage, flinging the towel over her bare chest as he stood and gaped.

They faced each other for a moment. He knew. Damn. The Englishman _knew._

"N-no," he stammered, voice pitched unnaturally high. "Robin needs – w-we ha-have to – keep – er –" she stormed past him, letting a branch fling backward to catch him in the face, and thanking Allah fervently that she had at least gotten her pants on.

. . .

Will was sweating. It was not a hot day, and – contrary to what Much said – he was not nervous. He, Little John, Much, and Robin, were crouched in the trees, waiting to attack. The slave trader had apparently decided to cooperate, which was relieving, but Will's mind was elsewhere. And he did not know that he liked it where it was.

Djaq was a _girl. _And he had seen her _naked. _Well, not naked, thankfully, but close enough to it. He watched her as she got out of the cart and stood before the Sheriff, chin jutted petulantly out, and he suddenly wondered how he could ever imagine she was a boy. Of course she was a girl … her skin was not rough and porous, but smooth and dusky. Her hands were little, her body was small-boned and delicate … he'd barely had the time to mentally shut himself up before the sheriff's hand came down with a crack over Djaq's face, knocking her to the ground.

Will jumped to his feet and almost made a run for it before Much grabbed him roughly by the arms. "Hey, what are you doing?"

"He hit her!" Will objected.

"We have to wait until Robin gives the …" Much froze, eyes widening. "Her?" He released Will, who backed sheepishly into the bushes once again, as Much continued to mutter, "You mean … he's … I mean, her … oh … hm."

. . .

The plan was actually working. Djaq stood on the ladder and watched as the outlaw's mouth bled black, and he fell, moaning, to the ground. And then, just as this Robin had predicted, the guards ran for their lives. She couldn't help but feel smug. Turk flu. Who would have thought?

And then she climbed the ladder and stood, frozen, as the rest of the outlaws burst out of the trees. They swept toward her, hair and clothes billowing behind them, and she could only gaze in wonder as they began to work. The amusing one whose name was Much knelt on the ground and tossed sticks in the air, which Will, the peeking bastard, promptly caught in one hand. It was all so well-planned, so perfect, that a shiver played with her spine for a moment and she thought silently, _Yes. It is good that I am here._

. . .

"I'll do it," said Will, taking the tools from Much's hand. He knelt to the ground and started scraping the wood against the stone, jamming it hard, waiting for a spark. A hand smacked him in the shoulder and he turned to look into the eyes of the Saracen boy … er, girl. She shook her head, smiling faintly, and muttered, "Primitive." Then she took out her odd little mirror and held it over his wood. He watched her in amusement, and when the flames burst forth they both smiled.

. . .

"Djaq! Come and join us?"

Djaq rose quickly from behind the rock. Robin Hood had no idea what he had just asked her. Those were the words she'd been hoping she'd hear when she left her Saracen fellows on the road, and tramped back through the English forest in search of the outlaws. So, with a small smile, she couldn't resist asking, "For good?"

"Well …" Robin stressed. "I was thinking just for dinner, but –"

"_I _was thinking for good!" she announced, climbing down into their makeshift camp. They were all staring at her – Robin, Will, Much, John, and Alan, for she'd learned their names. She kept her face cool and relaxed, but her stomach was tight, for she so wanted to see acceptance in their eyes. "Perhaps I should have let your big friend here die, huh? Then there would have been a vacancy."

There was a moment of silence, and then Will leaned forward, saying softly, "It wouldn't be safe for you, to join us."

Djaq stiffened. She hadn't forgotten about the pale one, but she'd been hoping that perhaps he would keep her secret. Apparently it was not to be, for she could already see the realization clicking slowly in Robin's eyes. "For us … or for him?" he asked.

"For _her," _was Will's answer. Djaq shot him a betrayed look, which he met only with those same puppy-dog eyes, but when she turned back to Robin's face, she found him laughing. "I guessed as much," he mused with a huge grin pasted across his face. John, on the other hand, was looking at her as if she'd just turned into an insect and started to dance.

"What's your name … your _real _name?" Robin asked, cocking his head. Djaq was frozen between seriousness and laughter … she didn't know what they would do with her now that they knew she was a woman. But she answered boldly, "Safia," which Robin echoed, looking uncommonly amused. "But I prefer you to call me Djaq …" which he also echoed, no less amused than the first time. She watched him warily, ready to dart if he made the wrong move.

"Well …" he continued slowly, "Your expertise _did _help to save Little John's life …" That was a comment which made just about everyone in the group look up in surprise, including Djaq. Could he actually be considering her even now? "… for which we will be eternally indebted …"

There was a moment of silence. Djaq held her breath as Robin straightened, looked around, and said loudly, "Anyone have a problem with a woman joining the gang?"

_Yes! _

Djaq's eyes immediately sought out Will, only to find to her inflating pride that he was already shaking his head.

. . .

"Looks like we're cooking dinner then!" Robin announced, trudging past Djaq, who still stood, shell-shocked, before the gang. Will averted his eyes quickly before she could see he was watching, and felt his mouth curl of its own volition. As the rest of the gang got up and busy, he just sat and stared at the forest floor, trying without success to keep the smile off his face.


End file.
